Others, like the Vedran before her, who controlled fire were calledvaren,or like in Adan’s case,stamen.Both bearing the gift to use the elements around them, though she had only ever seen them use one in particular. Never more than one element at a time.
There were more gifts, possibly more than even she knew of. Her sister’s being one of them. Far rarer than her own power. Being analter,one who can shift their features—or grant the illusion of doing so—had its benefits. Not that Enid had needed to do so in the past. Anelize couldn’t help but wonder now however, if that had been a mistake. If her sister had known how to properly conjure her power, could she have escaped the Watchmen? Just as she could have fought off the men who had cornered her...
The Vedran continued. “But there was once a Vedran who was not like us. She was special, strange, due to her own unique gift. One of the few who led the Vedrans to victory in the war. In the end, she was responsible for sharing our secrets and encouraged the others to be used as weapons against theking’s enemies. Her name has long since been lost, but she had always been known as the Weaver.”
It was Henry who spoke next, his face grim. “The Weaver was incredibly powerful, and she died long ago. We can all conjure that which exists and thrives and adapts. The Weaver, however, had the power of augmentation. What we can call a forbidden practice. When King Amaranth first appeared, seeking help of the Vedrans, none wished to be involved for they knew only death awaited them. They wished to merely remain as free people, away from the king’s reign. But it was the Weaver who saw potential in their alliance, and she led the king to her cottage to show him all that she had created. You see, she had been experimenting with inanimate objects, pouring her power into them to be used. There was once a story that she’d forged a sword from her blood, so powerful that it sent waves of men in battle scattering across the land like ashes.
“The king became obsessed with her gift and implored her to join him and convince the others to do the same. Over time, the Weaver used her blood to see how far she could go to create life where there was none. And so, she did. Until the king wished for her to share her magic so that in the case that Elvir ever grew in great peril once more, he could defend his people. Wanting to preserve their alliance and the influence the king held, the Weaver convinced the rest of the Vedrans to help her in satisfying the king’s request, in exchange for receiving equal ground as the rest of the Madacians in the city. Thus, she created the Loom, a book woven in blood.”
An unsettling feeling began to stir in her chest.
“How did she create it?”
“By bringing forth all the Vedrans who had aided in thewar, she had each spill a drop of their blood onto the pages of the book. Each bestowing their power to be used in teaching the king’s court the ways of the Vedrans. Demonstrating how one drop of their blood carved by strange runes she’d created herself in the old language could grant fleeting power, only long enough until the cuts healed. It only ever lasted a few days, but it was enough to spark something within the king and his court. They became…hungry for it. Desperate for the barest hint of power—there, but never within their grasp. Eventually, they all became fueled by their greed. Shadows of the men and women that they had all once been. The king wanted the book for himself, but the Vedrans refused, threatening the Weaver to destroy it before it fell into the wrong hands.
“When she didn’t, she was cast out by the Vedrans as punishment for putting them all in danger. It was then that the Weaver threatened them all in her anger and spite, that she would curse every soul who had spilled their blood upon the book and every bloodline that followed through the generations that came down the line. That was when the king sent his men into the forest to steal the book, only he did not know she had also cursed the book from ever being used. Killing hundreds of Vedrans in the end, slaughtering them in the forest where their homes once had been. The king’s men had taken the book back to the castle. But no matter how much blood was spilled, the power never came. Instead, it started the first wave of the malady onto those within his court. The power of the Vedrans turning against them, poisoning their blood.”
Henry took a seat at the table, smiling grimly at Zara when she came to sit beside him. Then he continued. “But themalady didn’t end with the members of the king’s court. It grew, spreading, for the king was not deterred. He took to sharing the Loom with any who may one day be capable of undoing the Weaver’s curse. Thus, starting the strange carvings into flesh, the obsession for power, the disappearances.”
Anelize couldn’t believe what she was hearing. All this time, the king and his men had been hunting down Vedrans, blaming them for the malady, when, in truth it washewho had been responsible for it. All this time…
“It has been said that the only one who can break the curse is the one who destroys the book, or the one who would spill the blood of the Weaver onto its pages. Difficult, considering the Weaver is all but dead,” Idris said, earning an eye roll from his brother.
Stark realization swirled around her as she recalled the cuts on all of the patients she’d tended to who had been struck by the malady. Lifelessness she’d seen upon their faces and the aimless wandering of those forsaken on the streets of the impoverished district. Turning into creatures of the night.
“That is why there have been people disappearing off the streets. Returning with those cuts. They’d been taken by the king to see if he could break the curse. Vedrans and gifted alike.”
“Do you understand now?” the Vedran asked this time, that wicked gleam in his eyes appearing once more. “The Moroi.The malady. It’s all because of the Loom—and we intend to destroy it.”
“Destroy it…”
“It is the only way to put an end to all of this,” he said, as if it was as simple as all of that.
“And what of the Vedrans who have been arrested by theking’s men? Why did he take them? For the Loom?” Her worry for Enid’s safety only growing tenfold at this revelation.
“Not exactly. The rebels know about the book—they have for a very long time. Their attempts to steal it from the king over the years has done little to work in our favor. The king believes that the less Vedrans there are to oppose him, the easier it will become to continue using the book, until enough blood has been shed to satisfy it and use its power. According to his sage council.”
“So-calledsage…” the boy at the table murmured dryly.
“For too long, the Vedrans have fought to obtain the book, to no avail. But with every passing day, more and more Moroicontinue to appear, and with it, more Vedrans are being killed. We must put a stop to this before it is too late,” Henry said.
“How can you possibly achieve that? The Watchmen are everywhere, and we all know Castle Rime is a fortress in and of itself. Getting in to destroy the book will be close to impossible,” she questioned.
“That is why we need every bit of help we can get,” Zara said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Anelize blinked, then realized what she was insinuating. Shaking her head, she said, “You can’t possibly mean me.”
“My words exactly,” Adan added.
She ignored him as she looked around the room, expectant eyes all on her. “What could I offer that would be of any use?”
“You’re anevit,for one,” the Vedran murmured. “One of the most dangerous Vedrans to exist, and, as of a few days ago, one of the last that we know of. Having you join us would be an opportunity we can’t pass up.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m not exactly a fighter.”
“Not a problem, we have excellent teachers here. You’ll learn all that you can from them. At the very least, you can learn to hold your own rather than running away.”
She scoffed at his flippant words. As if it were that easy to do. She had gone nearly fifteen years without so much as spilling a drop of her blood to conjure, and now out of nowhere, he wanted her to suddenly use it to aid in this ceaseless war the rebels have been waging and gradually losing against a mad king.
